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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233815">Whales</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka'>yeaka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Vignette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29233815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Janeway gets a drink and shares facts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Whales</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s nothing like good, proper, fresh and <i>real</i> coffee—but the replicators make a decent facsimile most days. It’s enough to get her through several years in an unknown quadrant, at least. Of course it’s a welcome change when Neelix manages anything even remotely resembling a good non-resequenced-protein brew, though that’s usually too much to hope for.</p><p>For the past week, he’s done a better job than the replicator in her quarters. She prefers to get down to the messhall when she can find time for it anyway; it’s always good to see the crew off duty, judge how they’re doing, and put herself on the same level. Usually, Neelix greets her with a wide smile over a comically large bowl and leaps to greet her.</p><p>This time, he’s all the way at the other end of the counter, and Kathryn has to wander around to the waiting pot to pour her own cup. </p><p>It looks delicious. <i>Smells</i> delicious. Rich, dark, unspoiled by too much milk or sugar—just what she needs. She watches the steaming broth swirl into her metal mug until she’s got the lid on, and then she finally glances at her cook. </p><p>He’s dressed for the part—a white apron tied around his waist and an old Earth-style chef’s hat flattened atop his colourful forehead. But he’s holding cloth instead of food, bent over what’s shaping up to be a cute stuffed animal. The sight is instantly charming—she hasn’t seen a proper animal in ages, much less a cuddly toy version. The closest is the stuffed Targ B’Elanna had tucked into her bag on the last away mission, which toppled out during turbulence and resulted in a spew of defensive explanations that Kathryn could only smile through. Then again, Naomi Wildman’s also been known to carry a miniature Flotter around the halls, but frankly, as much as Kathryn can appreciate a good children’s franchise, the official Flotter doll looks like pure nightmares.</p><p>The toy Neelix is carefully sewing together is adorable—complete with over-exaggerated giant button eyes and pink-blue glitter that the actual animal isn’t supposed to have. Unless the Talaxian version is quite different. She muses aloud, “I didn’t know you had narwhals on your planet, Neelix.”</p><p>He startles, as though he didn’t notice her coming—he must’ve been so wrapped up in his work. But he smiles instantly and flusters, “What? Oh, no, nothing like this at home, I’m afraid—but I’ve been researching Terran children stories for Naomi’s birthday. I figure she can always replicate whatever she likes, but she can’t replicate something home-made that’s not in the database.” He smiles proudly, and Kathryn doesn’t have the heart to tell him that narwhals must be in the database, and thus the computer could easily design a stuffed version. Pulling the left fin into place with a firm tug of his needle, he adds, “She loves aquatic life, you know—I think it stems from those Flotter stories she’s so fond of. And apparently, human children love something called a ‘unicorn’—a beautiful white house—no, horse?—with a horn right on its forehead. Can you imagine? How magical!” he’s grinning so wide that Kathryn can feel it catching.</p><p>There was a time when she enjoyed unicorn stories too, but more so the mythology of them than the cartoon depictions. She never imagined crossbreeding one with a fish, but Neelix has always been marvelously creative. She almost feels bad telling him, “Unicorns are certainly fun. As are narwhals: fish that already do have horns on their heads.”</p><p>“Oh?” His furry brow knits. “‘Narwhals’... I don’t believe I came across them...” </p><p>“You won’t have, if you were looking up children’s fantasy stories. They’re real.”</p><p>Eyes blowing wide, Neelix exclaims, “Real! You’re telling me...” He splutters, pausing to look at the toy in his hands, then raising it to her. “Earth has <i>these</i>?”</p><p>“Well... none quite that cute. But essentially, yes.”</p><p>Neelix looks positively winded at the thought. For a moment, she thinks she’s broken his brain. But then the grin returns, wide as ever, and he decides, “How... how <i>delightful!</i> Earth really does sound amazing; no wonder you’re all so eager to get back!”</p><p>Kathryn smiles and nods, neglecting to mention that the human race nearly drove narwhals to extinction more than once, just like every other interesting creature there. Fortunately, there are several species still safe and sound on Earth, and she can’t wait to join them.</p><p>Earth is, after all, the only place one can find truly <i>perfect</i> coffee. Finally taking a sip of her mug, Kathryn enjoys the substitute she has. It’s still exquisite. She tells him, “This is excellent, by the way, Mr. Neelix.” Raising it in a subtle toast, she bids, “May Naomi love her narwhal.”</p><p>“Glad you like it, Captain.” And he returns to his work, whistling a cheerful tune as he sets into the last open seam. </p><p>Kathryn heads off to begin her own work, enjoying thoughts of home and all its wonders.</p>
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